


The Price

by DiaryofaWriter



Series: The Mazanett Stories [9]
Category: Gargoyles
Genre: F/M, Mazanett
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-20
Updated: 2013-04-20
Packaged: 2017-12-09 00:25:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/767837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiaryofaWriter/pseuds/DiaryofaWriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Owen has a new handicap, and Elisa helps him adjust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Price

The knock on my door was louder than usual, and sounded more solid than I was used to hearing. Frowning at this, I managed to untangle myself from Cagney, who had flopped onto my lap and wasn't eager to leave anytime soon. After he put up a yowling protest, I managed to finally get to the front door and opened it to see Owen. Beaming up at him, I kissed him softly, taking his hands in mine.

That was when I froze and pulled away. His left hand was stone. How the hell had that happened?

"Owen," I whispered in shock. "What _happened_?"

He gave me the most sheepish look I had ever seen on anyone, let alone Owen, and sighed heavily as he walked into my apartment. Apparently he was too shaken up to bother with our usual ritual of me protesting against his need to ask me for an invitation. This was serious.

"Your lover, my dear," he said slowly, sighing to himself, "is a bit of an idiot."

Of all the responses I had expected, this was not on that list. Owen was the smartest man I knew; far from being an idiot. Granted, the fact that he had somehow managed to get a stone fist in the last twenty-four hours did seem to support his statement. Of course, I didn't know enough to make that judgment yet.

Then a new thought occurred to me. Did this have anything to do with what had happened to Hudson in the last two nights? I had tried to ask the old Gargoyle where he had been kept and what had happened to him, but for some reason he had refused to answer. And he wouldn't explain to me why he wasn't telling me what happened. He just got this really cryptic look on his face and said that it would be better for me if I didn't know, one way or another. Now I was starting to get suspicious.

"Owen," I said slowly, guiding him to the couch and gingerly touching his hands--both of them--as I looked into his eyes questioningly. "Just tell me what happened."

He met my gaze, and there was so much guilt in his expression that it made me freeze. What had he done this time? He hadn't brought me chocolates, like he usually did when he'd made a mistake, but he was clearly upset about something. This only served to worry me more than before. Slowly trailing my fingers over the rough stone that his left fist was now made up of, I met his gaze questioningly.

"Owen, please, just tell me what happened," I said quietly. "I thought we'd moved past keeping secrets from one another."

His response was another wince as he slowly rubbed my arm with a sigh. "Have you ever heard of the Cauldron of Life, Elisa?" he asked quietly.

"The what now?" I asked in confusion. "No, never heard of it. Mythology's not my strong point."

Owen smiled wryly and reached up to brush my hair away with his left fist, wincing a little when he saw the stone skin and hastily lowered his hand. "The Cauldron of Life is a magical cauldron that legend says can create a potion that will allow the one who uses it to become immortal," he said slowly.

"So, naturally, Xanatos got interested," I replied dryly. "The man's obsessed."

And he was. David Xanatos had been trying to gain immortality in some fashion or another for nearly as long as I'd known about him. It was why he'd trusted Demona enough to let her broadcast a spell that turned all of New York to stone at night. Of course he hadn't known that was what the spell actually _did_ , but still. And now there was this Cauldron of Life thing.

Owen nodded in response to my statement. "Yes…he got interested. Unfortunately, part of the recipe that was required to make the potion was the stone skin of a Gargoyle."

I felt cold suddenly and pulled away from Owen, not wanting to look at him just now. "Hudson," I whispered. "Xanatos took Hudson to use for this potion."

"I tried to convince him otherwise, Elisa," Owen said quietly, touching my arm with his good hand. "But he was determined. It brought me little joy to have to imprison Hudson, though I did all that I could to ensure his escape."

Closing my eyes, I sighed heavily. "Do you know what happened while Hudson was imprisoned?" I asked through clenched teeth. At Owen's questioning look, I continued, with my jaw still clenched. "The clan were _crazy_ with worry! Broadway would have _died_ if I hadn't gotten involved!"

That seemed to genuinely shock and horrify Owen. His face grew paler and he stiffened in surprise as he took my hand in his good one. "Elisa, tell me what happened."

So I told him. I told him how Goliath and Lexington came to me after they had searched Macbeth's home, asking me for whatever help I could give them. I told Owen about arriving at the area of the city where Hudson's statue was, just as the sun was rising over the horizon. It had been the most horrible moment of my life when Goliath and the clan all turned to stone, with Broadway still in midair. It was only through some very quick thinking and two insanely lucky shots that I had managed to save Broadway by severing a rope holding a crate of rugs up. It hadn't been until Broadway landed on those rugs that I had relaxed. I'd almost fainted at that point.

As I told all of this to Owen, I watched his expression become twisted with anger and sympathy all at once. He was clearly angry with his employer, and no doubt the sympathy was directed at me. I wasn't in the mood for sympathy. I was angry, and just frustrated.

"Owen, how could you let Xanatos do that to them?" I hissed.

He didn't speak for a long moment. When he did, his tone was almost submissive. As though he was trying to show that I was the one in control of this situation. I had never heard Owen speak like this.

"I tried to prevent it, my love," he said in that quiet, meek tone. "I understand if you are upset, but please, understand that I am sorry."

I really didn't know how to react. I wanted to be mad at him. Hell, I wanted to be furious, and I had every right to be. A friend of mine had been held hostage, and I had watched another friend almost die. That was scary stuff to deal with. All the same, I loved Owen with all my heart, and I couldn't bring myself to be angry with him.

Sighing heavily, I wrapped my arms around Owen and kissed his forehead. "I forgive you," I said quietly. "But I'm still pissed off with Xanatos."

"Perfectly understandable, my love," Owen replied, holding me close.

Feeling the sharp corners and hard surface of Owen's stone fist against my back was surreal. Pulling away after a moment, I took his left hand in both of mine and sighed heavily. The feel of the rough stone seemed so final compared to when I had first seen it.

"C-can…" I started to ask, suddenly shy. I didn't know Puck enough to ask her for something like this, even after her revealing that she loved me. Sighing heavily, I forced myself to ask. "Can Puck fix this?"

Owen smiled wryly at me and kissed my forehead fondly. "Fortunately, I believe she can," he assured me gently. "If you do not mind having her here, that is?"

A slight blush of embarrassment crossed my cheeks at this. I had been avoiding Puck ever since she first revealed herself as the creator of Owen Burnett as a persona. It was awkward for me. I'd never really been attracted to women before, and suddenly I had a woman who was in love with me. It was a lot to take in.

"She can come out," I finally said with a sigh. "I don't mind." I left out the word "much", but I was fairly sure that Owen was aware of what I meant.

Lightly brushing my hair behind my ear, he smiled at me reassuringly. I tried to smile back, but my face didn't want to cooperate. Owen, however, seemed to understand as he kissed my forehead before pulling back to transform into the Puck.

She was just as I remembered. Pale, androgynous, and more pretty than downright beautiful with large green eyes that were almost unearthly in their beauty. Biting my lip a little as I looked over at Puck, I noticed that she was watching me warily, as though she expected me to throw her off the couch. That hurt me, more than I had thought it would.

"I'm not mad at you," I finally said quietly. "I just needed time to get used to this whole thing."

"I understand, sweet," Puck sighed. "And I wanted to give you the time you needed." She paused for a moment before looking at me in a manner that was so pleading it broke my heart to see. "How much longer do you think you will need?"

Sighing heavily, I reached out to touch Puck's hand. "I don't know. But I am willing to at least try to be friends first," I finally said, smiling weakly at her. "I want to be able to love you like I love Owen, but that will take time."

Puck nodded slowly and smiled weakly. "I can accept that."

"Good," I sighed in relief. "Now…Owen's hand will be fixed right?"

With a wry smile, Puck took Owen's form and held up his left hand, returned to its previous state. In an instant, I was at his side, pressed as close against him as I could be, taking his left hand in mine and kissing him firmly. He was back to normal. He was mine again. One of these days I was going to have to give Xanatos a piece of my mind.


End file.
